


from fiery autumn to frigid winter, the sun rises

by a_man_in_his_time



Series: unconditional [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, More Fluff, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:18:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9319349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_man_in_his_time/pseuds/a_man_in_his_time
Summary: It has been three months since that point in time.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HunterByDayWhovianByNight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterByDayWhovianByNight/gifts).



> Happy birthday once more to my dear friend.

It has been three months since that point in time.

 

Alex had come home that night to his lovers sleeping peacefully, their legs tangled together, hands loosely intertwined, and Eliza’s hair in an elegant braid, of all things.

It was quite the sight to behold. He could only begin to speculate what that evening’s events held. He wished he snapped a picture.

Quite the sight indeed.

As the months trudged on into increasingly colder temperatures, of a fiery autumn whose leaves took their leave and the earth froze momentarily, while the lives of others went on; before the sun reappeared for longer amounts of time to turn what was once a breathtakingly white landscape into a melting mess of dirty sludge; as these months went by, and the jolliness of the season began to affect even the most sour of old men, the days seemed to pass in one big blur, with the occasional night out to a nice restaurant or other. Indeed, for John, Alexander, and Eliza, their cozy little apartment seemed apart from the rest of the world.

That being said, the day on which this tiny portion of history occurred was one much like the others surrounding it: frigid, windy, and somehow utterly gorgeous. It seemed to snow for weeks, yet the trio knew that there hadn’t even been half of a fortnight’s worth of snow -- in fact, there had only _seemed_ to be weeks’ worth of snow piling up on the ground, when, in fact, it was merely the beginnings of a storm that was to hit the entirety of the Northeast that night.

It was the middle of the afternoon when John came home, greeted with the sight of Eliza lounging on the couch, engrossed in a book. He smiled to himself -- the way she carelessly seemed to sling a leg over the arm of the chair, in tiny shorts that she was in the habit of wearing (even in the middle of winter!); the way her long hair framed one side of her face; the way she effortlessly manages to look like a goddess without the intention to, and how she hadn’t even noticed John walking in -- all of it, together, was quite endearing.

John had found, some weeks back, that he had become something of her admirer. Since that first night he spent with her, he found that he held a newfound tenderness for her every action, her every word. When confronted by the ever-observant Alexander, John couldn't help but feel butterflies flying all about his stomach when asked about his actions (which included bringing her flowers without a special occasion to). Alex, with his _ever-clever_ manner of speaking, said the following.

“Oh my gosh, you _like_ her!”

To which John flushed at.

But that was neither here nor there.

John walked over to the back of the couch Eliza was sitting on and leaned over to gaze at her, hoping he'd catch her attention. She looked up, visibly startled.

“Hey,” he said, grinning in what he hoped was a charming way.

“Hey,” she echoed, her lashes fluttering. She pursed her lips and smiled at him. John’s heart swelled.

“I brought you something.” He watched as Eliza sat up to attention, smiling at him in that endearing way of hers that always filled John with feelings of admiration.

John produced a hot Starbucks coffee cup from behind the couch and handed it to Eliza. Her face lit up in delight.

“Is it a peppermint mocha?” she asked, looking back up at him with bright eyes that made his heart soar.

“You know it,” he replied with a wink. “Mind if I sit next to you?”

“By all means.” She adjusted herself and gestured towards the now-empty spot on the sofa.

“Shouldn’t Alex be home soon?” John asked as he settled down. Eliza rested her head on his shoulder, taking the first sip of her mocha.

“He should be. Knowing him, he’ll probably be stranded at the office before leaving any of the day’s work unfinished.”

John let out a huff of laughter. “You’re absolutely right.”

“I know.” There was a smile in her voice.

A moment of silence passed, and for a moment, John thought that she had gone back to her book, but that was not so.

“Hey, John?”

“Hm?”

“Braid my hair?”

“Sure.” Eliza shifted a bit, and John began to comb his fingers through her hair. “How do you want it?”

“Surprise me.”

Such was the extent of most of their interactions.

Was this enough? Did he want more?

As John began to play with her hair, he could not help but ponder this. Alex had the ability to read John like a book. If John was sad, Alex could tell. If John was secretly angry about something, Alex could tell. If John began to like the girl Alex was dating but still wasn’t sure if it was merely a platonic, brotherly sort of love, or that of a more romantic origin, _Alex could tell._ There was no getting past it. John blamed it on the years they’ve spent together.

When Alex confronted him about it, the fact that John smiled more around her, that John baked for her, that John got her near whatever she wanted -- he felt apprehensive. Like a child unsure of the term for a certain emotion they were feeling. Alex asked him how he felt towards Eliza. John turned red and said he didn’t know. Alex smiled all knowingly and leaned up to kiss John sweetly. _You’re cute when you blush,_ he said. _Even cuter is how you can’t see how much you like Eliza._

 _But I don’t think I like her that much!_ John had indignantly replied.

Bull.

He knew full well that he liked her _that much._ He was unsure how to deal with those feelings.

He liked the way her hand fit in his, the way her hair smelled, the way she looked in those tiny shorts, the way her laughter made his heart want to sing, the way she smiled, the way she put her hair up in a lazy bun at times, the way she looked in the braids John fashions for her, the way she simply _fit_ in between Alex and John in bed, -- the way she _was._ Her mere existence made John want to smile, and Alex knew it.

Perhaps he wanted more.

“Eliza,” John spoke her name softly. He tied the end of the braid with a hair tie.

“Hm?”

“I think I like you,” he said, not at all as hesitant as he had expected to be.

There was a pause. John held his breath. Eliza let out a huff of laughter. “I think I like you too, John. You’re a swell guy.”

 _You’re a swell guy._ The words echoed in his head. _Swell guy._ What did that mean?

“No, I mean--”

“I know,” she interrupted.

It was John’s turn to take pause. Eliza looked up at him through her lashes, and his breath caught in his throat. “What?” he managed out.

“I know,” she repeated. “Alex isn’t very good at subtly.”

“What does that mean?”

Eliza looked down at her mocha, and took one final sip from it. John was on edge. Before she could reply, the jingle of keys was heard from the door, and Alex at once stepped into the apartment and took off his coat. He said something in greeting, but John wasn’t really paying attention. Alex kissed both of his lovers and commented on their closeness (and how it was “the most adorable thing to walk in on, ever”). Eliza smiled at John; she scooted over to allow Alex to sit down between them.

It plagued John all afternoon.

 

That evening, as a blizzard brewed just outside their cozy little apartment, Alex exchanged a look with Eliza and excused himself to go to the bathroom. With the middle spot of the couch empty, Eliza hesitated not in sliding over the space and into John’s arms, as she was in the habit of doing since that one night three months prior. (Though she liked to believe that she was the best cuddler in the apartment, John was certainly the warmest. And he only complained a little bit when she pressed her cold hands into warm areas of his body. Unlike Alexander.)

Eliza began tracing little patterns in the material of John’s sweater. He smiled softly to himself, and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

“I do like you, John. A lot.” She spoke softly, almost sleepily.

“Do you?” John asked. He tried not to sound too hopeful.

“I do.” She lifted her head to look at him. It might have been the low lighting that made John think that she glanced at his lips. She set her head back down on his chest, and resumed her pattern tracing.

“I like the way you kiss the top of my head. The way you braid my hair. The way you hold my hands until they’re warm. I like _you._ ”

John couldn’t help the warm feeling that sprouted from his chest, accompanied by an equally involuntary smile.

“I like you too,” John replied.

Eliza lifted her head once more and sat up a little bit.

“Do you really, John?”

“I do.”

So perhaps it wasn’t merely a trick of the light when John thought she glanced down at his lips, for it happened again, but for a longer period of time.

“Miss Schuyler, would you do me the honor of allowing me to kiss you?”

Eliza seemed to smile at that. John was unsure where his confidence came from.

“Shut up and kiss me already.”

And so John did, leaning in and kissing her with a genuine sweetness that came directly from his heart. It was like the freshest of spring breezes, one full of hope and promise, with the scent of red roses and a hint of lavender -- a breeze that reminded John of his own affection, making every waking moment bliss.

Some force caused them to pull away from each other, leaving them to only gaze adoringly into the other’s eyes.

“I bet our biggest fan was just watching that,” Eliza said after a few moments, eyes half-lidded and a loving smile playing on her lips.

“Our biggest fan?”

Eliza kissed him once more.

“Alex, you can come out now.”

John held his breath, and he swore he heard the quietest “shit” come from the hallway. Not a moment later, Alex entered the living room from the hallway.

“I’m sorry, it’s just. You guys are so cute. I can’t believe this.”

“You’ve been trying to set us up this whole time,” Eliza said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Alex shrugged. “Is it so wrong to ship?”

John simply laughed and shook his head, still giddy with reciprocated love. He remembered what it was like to fall in love with Alexander.


End file.
